Adolescent Girls more at risk of getting HIV/AIDS

teenage girls

Teenage girls in sub-Saharan Africa are five times more likely to be infected with HIV than boys, a new UN report says.

Nearly half of all the adolescents living with HIV globally are in Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania in East Africa, according to the report by the United Nations Programme on HIV and AIDS (UNAids).

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Have You Ever Been Crazy/ Drunk In Love?

drunk in love

Drunk In Love is still one of my favorite songs. How did Beyoncé’s hook go? We woke up in the kitchen saying, “How the hell did this shit happen?” Oh baby, drunk in love. We be all night. Last thing I remember is our beautiful bodies grinding up in the club. Drunk in love. We be all night, love, love. We be all night, love, love. Enough of the singing already? Continue reading

Teenagers And Slang Words

Teenagers these days have their own language. They have their own terms in some words which we don’t know yet. We might get confused with the meanings of those words.

So I made a little research and if you want to be a hipster too, check out these 10 slang words, teenagers are using these days:

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Diary Of A Ghanaian Househelp: E04 I AM INNOCENT!!

Dear Diary,
Today is Tuesday, 15th April and I have missed you so much. I know you are wondering why we have not had a chat in a while. Yes, I know, it has been exactly 50 days since I last made an entry into you. Hmmmm, it’s not my doing, not at all.

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Diary Of A Ghanaian Househelp: E03 Intentions

Dear Diary,
Today is 23th February. Well, I was sitting in the living room earlier today, watching television with a glass of juice in one hand. There was nothing positive showing on television except for those music videos with girls in seductive clothes, shaking their bum-bum. But I was enjoying myself. It was such a refreshing feeling- the feeling of feeling like Madam in her absence. The music from the television was extremely loud and so I did not hear the car horn toot its way into the house. Abaga, the watchman at the gate failed to alert me but my instincts were right. Madam and Uncle had arrived.

Come and see speed. Even Usain Bolt got nothing on me. I quickly put off the television, emptied the remaining contents of the glass in the kitchen sink and then ran towards the gate all in the space of 60secs. Pretty Fast Huh? Madam together with her husband had just returned from the Shopping Mall but all did not seem or look calm. Maybe they had one of their usual family arguments on their way back because as I tried to help Madam with her bag, she brushed me off and walked angrily into the house! See me, see trouble..

“Akua- come over here and help me with the stuff in the boot?” That was Mr Sackey’s voice. He has been very nice to me and he treats me like I am his daughter. He opened the car boot and then I carried a very heavy box out of the boot and headed for the main entrance. Uncle Sackey then chipped in, that He had bought something special for me and I should see him later for it..

Come see me smiling plenty plenty. “Oh Thank You Uncle. God Bless You” “Hold The blessings Akua for now, maybe if you like what I got for you, then you can start showing appreciation” I started feeling awkward but I brushed the awkwardness away and made my way into the house. Not even madam and her tantrums could ruin my happiness. I later found out that, the heavy box was a Baby Cot for Justin- Madam’s baby.. Hmmmm.. See the way, the rich spoil their kids. Come see baby, enjoying baby cot all around the place.

I retired to the kitchen for the next two hours preparing supper for the family and still thinking about the present or maybe presents, Uncle got for me. I like the man. He is very handsome and gentle and sometimes, I think Christie (Oh Yeah, I have called that witch by her first name!) does not deserve him. Abaga who has known the family for a very long time, said Uncle was forced to marry Christie after her parents found out, she was carrying his baby to prevent shame on their family name.

I served the family at 6pm and then went back to the Kitchen to eat my own food. For some strange reason, Madam did not join the family and retired early to bed. That was when it happened:

Uncle Sackey called me to the living room after 8pm to show me the gifts he got me. “Look in the bag and then tell me if you like them” Eagerly I did and it was bras and some thin threadlike panties which he called “G-String” “Eiiii Ewurade Yesu. G- What? How could he buy these kind of items for me? What was he trying to say or imply? Or he has been spying my undergarments when I wash and hang them on the drying line?

“Do you like them, Akua?” I did not respond. I was shocked. Maybe that caused my sudden dumbness. “Do you like them?” He repeated his question again. “Uncle, honestly I do not know what to say?” “What to say about what??” I turned around to see Auntie Christie staring directly at me.. “Can somebody please tell me what the hell is going on here?”

Uncle got up calmly from his seat, held her hands, looked her in the eye, and started kissing her all over. “Why are you still standing there? Stupid Maid!!”  I disappeared to my room with the bag. I was damn lucky Madam was not smart or observant enough to ask about the contents in the bag. He called them- “His intention gift”

“Very Funny Uncle Sackey. I am not interested in sleeping with you” – I kept repeating to myself. I must return his gifts back to him tomorrow morning and say a BLATANT NO TO HIM! Meanwhile in the living room, I knew Uncle Sackey had cleverly lied to Madam. And speaking of the devil- “Akua!” “Akua!” ‘Madam!” I ran back to the living room.. “Oh dear, I am sorry for my earlier outburst- I did not know my husband and you were planning a surprise party for me”

The confusion on my face was clearly visible and I could see laughter forming on the corner of Uncle’s mouth. Maybe I should start calling him by his first name John, because after tonight- I have officially lost all respect for him.. I miss my mother. I miss her wise counsel in situations like this. Lord, Please be my Guide.

@isavedhersoul on twitter and please don’t keep the comments in your head and thank you for taking time off to read..

Diary Of A Ghanaian Househelp: E02 Breaking Plates

Dear Diary,
I was standing by the kitchen sink. Washing the dirty dinner plates and I was trying to be extremely careful because I knew fully well that Auntie Christie would be unable to replace one of these expensive plates if I got it broken.
I put on the tap, put the plate under the flowing water when it hit me. The breeze coming through the kitchen window, hit me and past memories came to life.Memories of him, Memories of Us.  James. He who took my whole being. Him. The one I never saw again.

It was a cool Friday afternoon. James had been trying to woo me for a few weeks and I must admit, he was everything I wanted. He was fair in complexion and tall. He always brought me grass cutters from the bush whenever he went hunting with his friends. He was a man. A real man. All the boys in the village envied him and he was the village ladies man.

That day, I was returning home after visiting a few friends. On my way back, he met me along the path and held my hand. God! I felt happiness within my body. He dragged me along a bush path. He kept telling me that I was going see something I had never seen before. I followed him obediently like a puppy. I wanted to be alone with him. Forever. Have him all to myself.
He took to a small open field with grass. A place where we could do anything, we wanted without getting caught.  I was still staring at his face. He kissed me and Oh My God, I was elated. I was blinded by his love. His lips consumed my lips in a rush. My head exploded. I wanted more. We did not say words to each other.  He held my breasts and pressed the firmly. He pressed his body against mine. Oh My God! I wanted more- more of him.. I held him tighter to my body because my knees felt too weak.  He took his hands down slowly to the lower region of my body. I felt excitement. “James! St——-!” The words could not even come out.

James wanted more but I could not give him more. I wanted to. But I could not. I just could not give him my body. I was raised a Christian. I promised God and my mother that I would wait until marriage.
We sat under a tree that day and watched the sun set. I was in love with James and there was nothing anybody could say or do about it..

The next day, I left for Accra. Without even saying goodbye to the boy of my dreams. Oh. How I miss him. He was my first kiss. On that cool Friday..

*the plate slipped from my hand as I tried to wipe away my tears*
It fell from my hand and shattered into tiny pieces.. Auntie Christie heard the sound from the Main Hall and rushed to the Kitchen.. “What happened here?” Madam screamed.. “It was an accident” I tried explaining.. “An accident?” “Stupid Girl! Foolish Girl, you broke a plate worth $1000 and you say its an accident?” “You are a witch just like your poor mother in the village”

Oh no Auntie! Diary, I received a heavy slap for breaking the plate. Auntie Christie has really changed. I do not know why though. She has become extremely cold towards me. She insults me and my mother all the time and on three occasions, I went to bed on an empty stomach. I miss my mother. I know she is praying for me 😥 I miss James but what can I do? Nothing!! I feel like leaving..All I have is you Diary. You are my best friend.

It is @isavedhersoul on twitter and please don’t keep the comments in your head. Say something.

Diary Of A Ghanaian Househelp: E01 The Story Begins

Dear Diary,
Today is Janaury 4th and I am excited today to write my first entry into you.  Maybe I should start it off, by introducing myself to you. I am Akua Amponsah and I am from a remote village somewhere in the Central Region. I don’t know my real date of birth, but my mum believes I was born in 1992.  The village boys say I am very beautiful and it is true. I have got physical assets (front and back), that can make any other girl’s assets look like a small boy.

Well Diary, I was in the house one day, in the backyard washing the jeans of my village lover boy, James when my mother called me. She shouted “Akua” “Akua” like she has never called me before. I left the jeans in the bucket and ran to her.
Getting close to her, I recognized a familiar face. It was Auntie Pat from Accra carrying big polythene bags of what looked like provisions and loaves and bread. “Why are you standing there like a statue? ” Won’t you help your auntie with her load?” I greeted her, collected the bags from her and disappeared.

I reappeared with a glass of water, by which time the two older women had settled into a conversation. “How is Accra?” “How is work?” “How is your husband and the kids?” My auntie’s answers were the same throughout: “Everybody and everything is fine” “We thank God for that”- my over religious mum will reply. I eavesdropped and heard Auntie Pat telling Mummy that,  one of her close friends  who lives in Accra had just given birth and that since her friend,  just had another baby, they will need someone to help them.
“Auntie Pat,  you want me to do house girl work in Accra?” I asked. “No my dear Akua, this one is like assistant house take carer. None of my children will do house help work in Jesus’ name” My mum and I screamed a big “Amen!!”

A week later and diary, here I am in the big city, with  2 complete strangers to call my Master and Madam,  3 drivers, 1 gate man, and a houseboy that I have to live with. For how long? I do not know. But diary, I promise to update you on every thing which goes on in my life from now till I leave Accra.  We will share this adventure together. I can hear my madam shouting my name now and I have to go. By the way, her name is Mrs. Christine Sackey but I have to call her Auntie Christie or Madam. I have not met her husband yet though. He is on a business trip in U.S.A. Chao!!

Its @isavedhersoul on twitter and please don’t keep the comments in your head. Thank you for taking time off to read.

© Nii Aryee 2014. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from the owner/author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nii Aryee and The Ghanaian Boy with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.